


forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn

by ShakyHades



Series: Atlas [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin also Needs a Hug, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Grief/Mourning, It's Driver's fault, Kinda Kid fic?, Mustafar Angst, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, This is 15k+ plus of angst I warn you, everyone is trying, they're trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 10:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9603560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakyHades/pseuds/ShakyHades
Summary: Grief can affect a person in many ways. To some, it gives the courage to do something they were previously incapable of; to honor the memory of a loved one. To others, it is a crippling force, a constantly bleeding wound they can’t heal; something that continues to haunt them after years.It changes people, even those too young to understand.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Driverpicksthemooseic (Ratkinzluver33)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratkinzluver33/gifts).



> Title from Uneven Odds, by Sleeping At Last.  
> This is an idea I've had for months, long before I ever thought of starting Atlas. The song inspired this AU quite some time ago, and back then, I didn't have my enabler, Ms. Driverpicksthemooseic, so I naively thought I could maybe send this somewhere as a prompt and maybe it would be made into a longer piece (not that this isn't long), given a less sad ending. But then she came along, and I'm the one writing this in the end, so suffer without happiness in sight, bye  
>  **The calendar in this is the Galactic Standard, so 5 days = 1 week, 7 weeks = 1 month.**  
>  Many thanks to fireflyfish, lilyconrad and YukiYashaH also, for all their help in this <3
> 
> 10:56 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: LOH H H AOAHOH O  
> 10:56 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: OOOOOH OWW OKAY  
> 10:56 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: THANKS  
> 10:57 - Jason Todd's Hot Bod: dont think i dont recognise you're pulling a satan
> 
> (hello i am sad to add that the plot didn't let me put some on-screen obikin in it but the whole last part features it k bye)  
> (hello again most of the ';'s and all of the 'so as to' are my beta, YukiYashaH's, fault. ty bye again)  
> (eta: driver demands credit for the differentiation of "its" and "it's" so i guess??? ily darkling)

Obi-Wan would give anything, anything  _ at all,  _ to turn back time and stop the events unfolding in the galaxy at that very moment. He wanted to erase every action, every thought and plan that led to it; to stop it before it could even dream of happening.

Sadly, the Force did not work that way. He was stuck there, almost more of a spectator than a participant in the act being performed in that lava-lit platform, an outsider, looking in. He certainly felt as helpless as one.

Anakin stood there with Padmé, as fiery as the rivers surrounding them. In that moment, he was still a gentle flame, presenting more warmth than danger, but Obi-Wan saw the potential for destruction he had. The chains of reason and morality that struggled to keep the fire from turning into a raging inferno were being eaten away in an increasingly faster pace, soon to be turned into nothing more than ashes and distant memories.

He was still unnoticed, but not for much longer. Obi-Wan knew what would happen as soon as Anakin saw him standing there at the ramp: a battle would ensue between two halves of the same circle; a battle until one of them was dead. He didn’t know if he had the courage and strength of will necessary to kill someone so dear to him, but he knew, after only a few seconds of observation, that this new version of Anakin would have no such qualms.

He senses when Anakin finally notices him there, billowing cloak and all. Obi-Wan’s face is schooled into disapproval; an attempt to hide the pain he feels in that moment. Anakin turns against Padmé next, throwing false accusations and not giving her time to deny and explain herself.

The words coming out of Obi-Wan’s mouth are more automatic than a conscious decision. Something needles at his Force perception, so he quickly scans over the platform and adjacent facilities, but finds no source. It continues to nag at his awareness, something he cannot quite recognize, but won’t let itself be tuned out. 

When he looks at Padmé, unconscious but with distress still plain in her face, the sensation gets a little more insistent, a whisper of  _ ‘hurry’  _ against his mind, and a pulling sensation he associates with tractor beams, inescapable. 

Still, he cannot simply  _ go _ to her and completely ignore Anakin, who is a star in the Force, bright and fiery and dangerous, so dangerous. He paces and stares, hunched, protective of his own decisions, however bad they might be. In that moment, he is like a wild animal, a breath away from going feral.

They circle around each other, two celestial bodies orbiting a shared centre of mass, and Obi-Wan hears what Anakin is saying, but barely processes it. Anakin gains distance from Padmé just as Obi-Wan gets closer, one’s movement dependent on the other’s.

Obi-Wan recognizes this defense of recent decisions as it really is: a form of hesitance, of stalling, created from some leftover, perseverant regret and a hope that it doesn’t need to end in violence, a way of saying  _ please listen, please understand _ . But as much as he wouldn’t like to fight Anakin either, Obi-Wan knows that there could never be a meeting ground or a common standing in these circumstances, and so, they are destined to clash.

It feels like an eternity until he is able to kneel at Padmé’s side to examine her presence and silence the nagging at the base of his conscience. At first, he overlooks it without realizing, but a more careful search unearths the source of the problem. He opens his eyes in surprise, and sees Anakin turn around to face him from the corner of his eyes, confusion seeping into his presence after realizing that Obi-Wan’s attention had switched to something else.

He closes his eyes to dive back in, to confirm something he would rather not: darkness had somehow found a way to invade Padmé’s core, and had been consuming her natural light, little by little, for some unidentified amount of time. Now, however, he could feel it accelerating, gaining strength by feeding off the darkness outside of her, inside Anakin.

At that rate, Obi-Wan didn’t think she would survive.

He lets that realization sink in with all the gravity it deserves. To know so certainly that someone so bright; so  _ good  _ was inevitably dying was devastating: something to be mourned.

Obi-Wan lets all of his masks drop at that moment. He knows Anakin will think it a trick to make him lower his guard, and he needs to shorten the amount of time wasted as much as possible. He raises his head then, and with his mind and soul wide open, he finally looks at Anakin in the eyes. 

 

x

 

The sheer  _ rawness _ of his gaze almost makes Anakin stumble, unused to seeing his Master - no,  _ former  _ Master - unshielded, to the point where it was almost disconcerting. The faint vulnerability oozing out of Obi-Wan’s Force presence makes his hairs stand on end and want to shy away, but no-- it has to be a trick, just another mask for Obi-Wan to hide behind, never showing his true feelings.

But, it didn’t  _ feel _ fake--  _ no!  _ He can’t give in. He can’t treat Obi-Wan as anything other than an enemy, someone sent to stop him; kill him. Anakin has to stand firm. Weakness won’t help him save Padmé and their child. He needs to deal with Obi-Wan, and then get her out of there-- somewhere safe, where they could talk calmly, without the fires of Mustafar feeding the star in his heart, making it burn so  _ brightly _ he could barely think past the rush of power on his veins.

Before that, however, he will harness it, use it to defeat his Mast-  _ Obi-Wan.  _ They knew each other far too well for it to end as quickly as he wishes. He’ll have to use whatever cheap, dirty tricks he can.

“Anakin, please.” The unexpected sound has the effect of making his body try to freeze and seize at the same moment, resulting in something like an aborted motion, making his breath fail, stutter, and then reboot, leaving him dazed.

Anakin lowers his head, hands curled into fists and a mantra of  _ don’t, please don’t _ in his mind. He can’t do it. Two words, filled with hope and sadness and regret and so much  _ tiredness  _ and his grasp on all the air he had been compressing, on all the heat he had been holding in, dissipated against his will.

Always stubborn, Anakin didn’t let that deter him. He can gather it up all over again. He has to get back on track. He has to deal with Obi-Wan and sav-

“ _ Anakin. _ ” And there it goes again, over before he can even begin. It was  _ wrong,  _ his voice was too heavy, it hur-

“ _ What!? _ ” His voice as broken as his Mas-  _ Obi-Wan’s  _ shields, a hundred feelings and emotions all at once, and so much confusion. “I- I’m n- I’m not  _ Anak-  _ Force dammit!” Anakin presses the heels of his hands on his eyes, feeling a crack on the tank, leaking fuel, only that he was not a hovercar and it was a crack on his mask instead- “I am- I’m-”

“Anakin.” It was soothing now, a projection of peace that resonated somewhere, that almost ripped a similar projection from his presence. “Focus. Breathe.”  _ Don’t let the pressure turn you into a black hole. _

So Anakin breaths, and lowers his hands from his face, and figures that he must have left quite the red spots behind. The absurdity of it all almost made him chuckle as he distanced himself from the situation, all of it too surreal to bear.

“I said focus, not disassociate.”

It has the desired effect: Anakin’s head snaps back so that their eyes can meet, gold with specks of blue meeting a myriad of shifting colors that never stays  _ just _ blue or green or grey; across the platform that was almost the stage to their mutual destruction, but now just felt empty. The moment of trying to kill each other had passed even before their ‘sabers had been drawn.

And Anakin didn’t exactly know what  _ this, _ now, was.

 

x

 

Obi-Wan didn’t exactly know what made him speak up. Maybe it had been Anakin’s Force presence, maybe his expression; both were his internal conflict given form. It hurt to watch him go from determined to confused, to lost, to angry, and then determined once more. In the end, it worked, and there Anakin stood, still so far away physically, but a little closer emotionally. 

Anakin was staring at him, waiting for something - guidance, perhaps? Something for him to do, now that Obi-Wan had turned all of his plans to dust. Obi-Wan ponders it for a moment. Would it be safe to ask him to come closer? To kneel next to Padmé, peek into her Force presence, and find the intrusive darkness that lies inside?

Even if it wasn’t, Obi-Wan has no choice, and more importantly, no  _ time. _ So he beckons Anakin closer with a tug on his presence, a tap on his shields, and after a millisecond of hesitation, Anakin complies. Once he’s close enough, Obi-Wan tugs on his presence again, this time downwards, and again, he complies.

Instinct told Obi-Wan to take Anakin’s wrist in his hand, the flesh one, and guide it to Padmé’s arm, which he did. Anakin flinches when he’s forced to really see her there, unconscious and hurt by his own doing. He made to retract his hand, but Obi-Wan holds firm on his wrist, not letting him move away.

Blaming him for the situation would lead them nowhere, even if it was the truth, in part; the puppeteer was Darth Sidious, and for all his previous talk of power, Anakin had been only another pawn to be played with. Obi-Wan pushes that line of thought to the side, so as to be able to focus.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan begins, his voice soft but his gaze serious. He waits until Anakin lifts his head to meet his eyes, to make sure he won’t be ignored. “I need you to search her presence, and tell me what you find there.”

Anakin looks at her, uncertain, but acquiesced to his request. With his eyes closed, Anakin takes one of Padmé’s hand in both of his and then delves inside. At first, his expression demonstrates regret and a little worry, but as the seconds passed, a heavy frown appears, mixed with incredulity and shock.

“What- Is that-  _ darkness? _ ” Anakin loosens his grip on her hand, eyes wide, unbelieving. “It can’t be- Not after all I’ve done to save her- Is she just doomed to slip away, anyway?”

Anakin’s presence radiates pain like a solar wind. Seeing as his shields are still mostly down, Obi-Wan is almost destroyed by it, barely managing to hold on to his senses. His balance short circuits with the onslaught, and so he falls on the warm, ashy floor, dazed and struggling to separate his core from Anakin’s anguish.

Obi-Wan always knew Anakin felt strongly, but  _ this-  _ it was simply overwhelming. Were he a lesser man in the same circumstances, it could have stripped his very sense of  _ self  _ away, leaving only a shell with that same anguish behind.

The idea nearly sent a shiver of terror down his spine, but Obi-Wan contains it; that kind of fear will do him no good in the current situation. What Anakin can and cannot do with the intensity of his Force ability is something to be pondered in a better time, as he had done many times before.

He had just refused to think something like this could happen, during these past times. 

Somehow, Obi-Wan finds his voice again. “We need to take her out of here,” he says, looking around and seeing only lava, mountains of ash and the construction to their right. “Get medical help for Padmé and hide.”

A forced, painful laugh comes from Anakin, almost by its own will, Obi-Wan can tell. “What for? It’s- it’s too late. The darkness has consumed too much already,” Anakin says with a hateful smile, well aware of the double meaning on his words. “And Sidious will find us, eventually.”

Obi-Wan’s stance turns sharp, disapproving of Anakin’s attitude, however justified it might have been. “She deserved better than this barren wasteland in her final moments. What of the child,  _ your _ child, that rests inside of her still? You will just throw their life away?”

“And what world would our child be born into? Without a mother, and a father that failed to save her!? In a galaxy ruled by- by a  _ Sith Lord!” _ Anakin turns his face away, mumbling to himself and radiating half a dozen of emotions all at once.

Obi-Wan remakes some of his shields; Anakin’s pessimism managing to draw out the anger that he had been carefully pushing away. Thinking about it, Obi-Wan almost laughs -- they always did manage to bring out the most of each other, be it good or bad.

If Anakin refused to see sense, Obi-Wan wouldn’t keep treating him as if he were glass.

“So you would take, from your child, the chance of being  _ born? _ You would kill them with your  _ inaction _ ? Yes, Anakin, you hold part of the blame; your actions are your own. But Sidious has been masterfully manipulating the whole Senate -- and the Order, as well -- for years! A decade! And now, instead of wanting to save your unborn child, instead of at least  _ trying  _ to salvage what little good is left in this galaxy, you prefer to wallow in your pessimism and declare yourself defeated before the battle has even begun,” Obi-Wan spits, feeling himself walk to the edge of his control, and then give a step back into safety.

Anakin only stares in awe, mouth slightly open in shock, unused to seeing his master lose his temper. Obi-Wan carefully picks Padmé up, a new wave of grief passing through him with the action. While he walks those first few steps towards the sleek, shiny ship he had stowed away in, Anakin continues to be a still presence behind him, clearly thinking about what he should do.

Finally, he gets up on his feet and runs up to him, staying a few steps behind, however. Obi-Wan didn’t need to look at him to know his appearance was meek and bewildered, but he also knew that could change in a heartbeat.

Threepio is, as always, worrying and fussing about nothing in particular, just inside the ship. When the droid sees Padmé he almost has a fit, complete with rapid talking and frantic movement. Obi-Wan chooses to tune him out for the moment and deposits her on a cot built within the wall, making sure she’s comfortable.

Anakin didn’t come close to her, preferring to stay out of Padmé’s field of vision, in case she woke up, while still keeping her in  _ his. _

Obi-Wan caress her face gently, feeling the niche his grief made for itself over the years inside of his mind flare up once more. His chest fills with guilt over things he could not have prevented alone, and regret for the things he could have done better, but his eyes stayed dry. Obi-Wan Kenobi was used to grief.

She opens her eyes and recoils with surprise, the memory of being choked still on the forefront of her mind. When she sees Obi-Wan, though, she calms down, allowing herself to try and take a deep breath. Anakin, still hidden from her, cowers after seeing her reaction, pain and guilt flooding his side of the their bond.

“Obi-Wan,” she rasps, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Is Anakin alright?”

Obi-Wan stays silent, unsure of the answer and unwilling to put her in even more distress. Padmé falls unconscious again after just a few seconds. Obi-Wan stays still, trying to gather his thoughts, trying to make sense of this mess before it grows even more. He gives one last look to Padmé and then steps away, turning to Anakin.

“You came with Artoo, didn’t you?” he asks, voice low, even though a higher volume would be unlikely to bother Padmé.

Anakin nods, expression and Force presence sad. “I told him to stay with the ship. I- I’ll go get him,” he answers and leaves the ship with long strides, clearly seeking distance.

Obi-Wan turns to Threepio, who is standing dejectedly in the corner, not blocking anyone’s way for once. In that moment, he felt a kinship with the droid-- even though he wasn’t made of flesh, he still  _ felt _ in a certain manner, and having everything change so suddenly must be hard for the droid as well.

Obi-Wan walks until he can stand at Threepio’s side, who lifts his gaze from Padmé to him. The droid has no facial expressions, but Obi-Wan can still feel the faint aura of worry he emanates.

“Is… Is Miss Padmé going to be alright?” Threepio asks, in a voice much too quiet for him. Obi-Wan feels a pang on his side, feeling almost like the droid is a child, awaiting for updates on the condition of his parents.

“It is very unlikely. We took too long to notice the strange darkness festering inside her soul, and now she is too fragile.”  

Threepio looks down to the floor, clearly sad. Obi-Wan rests a hand on the droid’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort, but it does nothing to lessen the pain, and both of them know it.

Anakin enters the ship again, this time with Artoo behind him. The usually clean and shiny silver dome is covered in ash, much like Anakin and Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

Artoo beeps in concern when he sees Padmé, rolling over to her immediately. After noticing she is unconscious, his beeps turn sad, and that prompts Threepio to go stand beside him. Anakin watches them for a while before glancing at Obi-Wan, quickly looking elsewhere when their eyes meet.

Obi-Wan ponders a bit on the color of Anakin’s eyes, still an uneven mixture of the natural blue and the Sith gold. He wonders if calculating the percentage of each would give him an accurate answer as where Anakin stands the most, in that moment-- the Light or the Dark? And if they were half of each, what exactly would that mean for all of them?

He shakes his head faintly, as though physically brushing the line of thought to the side; before turning around and walking to the cockpit, Anakin trailing silently behind him.

Obi-Wan sits in one of the pilot chairs and tries to think about what should their next action be. Clearly, they must leave Mustafar, and go somewhere they can hide for a while, somewhere with a medical facility for Padmé and her child. The logical choice would be to contact Bail, who was likely to know of Master Yoda’s whereabouts; after all, he was one of the few politicians with a good heart that truly worked for the people, and one of the even smaller number of people that could be trusted to help them after the supposed ‘Jedi Rebellion’ was aired out.

However, how would they react to Anakin’s presence? Obi-Wan had received orders to stop the threat, and in a way, he had-- just not in a way that would please them. It was a risk he had to take.

Obi-Wan looks briefly at Anakin, still standing behind him and somewhat fidgety, and gestures for him to sit on the other chair. Anakin pretends to make himself busy, checking the panels and controls, but Obi-Wan knows him far too well to believe it.

Taking a deep breath, he activates the ship’s comm and enters Bail’s information. It didn’t take long for the call to connect, revealing the Senator, who looks relieved at knowing that the Jedi was still alive and well.

“Master Kenobi! I was starting to worry. Are you alright; have you sustained any injuries?”

Obi-Wan smiles faintly at Bail’s concern. “I am fine, and other than ash from this planet clinging to my clothes, no different than I was when I left. Padmé, however, needs medical attention, as soon as possible.”

Anakin flinches at hearing that, and the motion diverts Bail’s attention to him. Bail’s expression went from relieved to horrified, then to a little scared, then guarded-- it seemed he had failed to notice that the one beside Obi-Wan wasn’t Threepio when accepting the comm.

Obi-Wan glances at Anakin, squirming with a lowered head, full of shame and regret. He makes eye contact with the holographic Bail and shakes his head minutely, gesturing for him not to worry. After seconds of hesitation, the politician nods, trusting Obi-Wan’s judgement.

“We have medical facilities here, and they are quite well equipped. I will send you the coordinates and have the med team ready and awaiting for your arrival. Good luck, Master Kenobi.”

With that, he ends the comm, the coordinates arriving soon thereafter. A quick look on the directory reveals the place to be Polis Massa, a base located in an asteroid field far into the Outer Rim, somewhere unlikely to be searched in the near future. 

Obi-Wan feels a slight drawing of the Force, centering on Anakin. Curious, he scans Anakin’s presence superficially, and is immediately flooded with more information than he thought he would get. Obi-Wan blinks, confused, but then notices the reason: Anakin was blocking the rudimentary training bond he had formed with Sidious, and opening their old one instead.

Obi-Wan stares at him, bewildered, but Anakin refuses to meet his gaze, initiating the takeoff sequence instead. He lets it be brushed aside, like so many other things in these last hours, putting in the coordinates and programming the jump to hyperspace in silence, and as in sync as they have always been.

 

x

 

Though Anakin keeps himself from looking to Obi-Wan, and, feeling too much shame for the gold in his eyes, he fails to control the part of his mind that wants to touch their old training bond constantly, that needed the reassurance which came with the mental contact; to know that Obi-Wan wasn’t mad with him; to know that they were going to be okay.

Of course, such answers couldn’t be gathered from such a superficial touch, but it didn’t disappoint in the calming aspect. His Master was, after all, radiating an aura of serenity as he always did, even when his true feelings were in complete turmoil. Over the years, Anakin had learned to see through that layer of calm and into what Obi-Wan was  _ truly  _ feeling, so he can now assure himself with the knowledge that even though his Master is distressed with their entire situation, he harbors no negative feelings towards Anakin.

Still, Obi-Wan isn’t the only one whose forgiveness he deserved. What he had done to Padmé was inexcusable, despite knowing that it had only gone that far because of what he could now see as the Dark Side, clouding his mind and judgement. What had started as a way to keep her alive and well had, in the end, acted as a catalyst to what woul-- will kill her.

Anakin’s mind rebels at the very idea of her death, as it had many times before, after nightmare-filled nights. After looking over the panels and making sure everything was running smoothly, Anakin gets up brusquely, catching Obi-Wan’s attention.

“Anakin?” he asks, trying to look into his eyes, but Anakin has his face turned away.

“I’m going to check on Padmé. After all I’ve… I can’t accept that she’s going to die just like that. I need to do something.”

Anakin feels through their bond the words Obi-Wan wants to say, but refrains to:  _ that thinking is what made this worse! What you’re thinking of doing is dangerous! _

He sends a clumsy, half-fake wave of reassurance to Obi-Wan, knowing it will have the opposite effect, if it even has any; his Master much too resigned and used to his messes.

His body can’t decide if it wants to see Padmé as soon as possible or if it’s too ashamed of his actions to do so; something that makes his gait strange, stilted. When he does arrive at her side, he takes a moment to absorb her features, her braided hair, the comfortable attire she chose to wear. He lets all of it sink in, his choices, her actions and both of their doubts. Though Obi-Wan is a dear friend of hers, she chose not to believe what he said at first, instead coming to him to try to discover the truth. In that moment, Anakin regrets that Obi-Wan had to be right.

Anakin takes her hand in his, raising it until he is able to lay a kiss on her feverish skin. Threepio and Artoo converse softly next to the cot, two guardians watching over her, respecting her need to rest. Anakin smiles softly then, remembering many of the good memories he has with them.

“Thanks, guys, for always being with us.” Their chatter stops as soon as his voice sounds, and then Artoo beeps affectionately.

“Oh, Master, it is our pleasure to be able to serve you and Miss Padmé.”

“You are our friends too. You know it, right?” Anakin asks, a little desperate, suddenly needing the confirmation.

Threepio flails in excitement, almost incoherent, while Artoo beeps incredulously, and Anakin laughs a little, glad to have them both. When they quiet down again, he turns back to Padmé, his slight smile turning into a frown again.

“I can’t let this happen, Padmé. I have to save you, even if you end up not wanting me anymore.”

Anakin starts focusing on her core again, anchoring himself in his bond with Obi-Wan, a prevention in case he goes too far inside her Force presence; so that he won’t lose his sense of self in the grand ocean of life that the Force  _ is. _ He feels as Obi-Wan notices it and mentally extends a hand, giving him further stability for what he plans on doing.

After bending forward to deposit one more kiss on her, this time on her brow, he breathes in deeply and dives into her soul.

Immediately, he sees that the darkness has progressed even more, leaving him with a sense of hopelessness he refuses to accept. He begins to try pushing it back and away, but fails to find much purchase against it.

Still, he won’t give up. He  _ needs  _ to save her.

 

x

 

Obi-Wan divides his attention between checking the ship and keeping Anakin firmly anchored, with the mental strain starting to show itself after the eventful, complicated day they all have had. He knows, however, that it will be long before he can finally sit and rest, or better yet,  _ meditate  _ properly _. _ Once they reach Polis Massa, he will have the added task of acting as a buffer between Anakin and nearly everyone else, while also worrying about their fate and having to make a plan to hide and survive.

To worsen the situation even more, his mental tension is starting to translate into  _ physical, _ his body giving out a general complaint with no source he can remedy.

The door opens as Threepio and Artoo pass through it, giving him an idea.

“Threepio, could you watch the ship for a while? I feel this day is still far from ending, and I need to rest if I am to deal with this entire mess in the hours to come.”

“Of course, Master Kenobi! Artoo and I will make sure everything is running smoothly.”

Obi-Wan absent-mindedly thanks him, vacating the chair and going to sit at a corner of the cockpit, using the droids’ bickering as white noise while he tries to meditate. He doesn’t manage to go any further than shallow thoughts, however.

Anchoring Anakin is what prevents Obi-Wan from going any deeper into the trance, seeing as it requires an active effort from him. The small rest manages to let him somewhat recover, though, and has the added bonus of messing with his sense of time, so that he doesn’t have to twiddle his thumbs while waiting for them to reach their destination.

The slight lurch of exiting hyperspace, impossible to hide even in the most advanced ships, alerts him to their arrival. It’s smoother than he expected it to be, but still manages to be unsurprising; it is _ Padmé’s _ ship after all.

He unfolds from his position on the floor, stretching a bit. The ache that permeates his entire body has diminished, but the mental strain has only grown in its stead.

With soft steps and a faint aura of serenity projected around him, he walks to the resting area, feeling grief eat away at the borders of his awareness. Padmé remains unconscious, but in the Force her presence gives a faint sense of awakening, of unfurling-- as if in the aftermath of a disaster: that split second of peace when you realize that, for better or worse, you no longer have control of your destiny.

Anakin is, predictably, the very opposite: with a heavy frown and a body so tense that it almost hurts just to watch. His body language says all Obi-Wan already suspected: he is fighting a losing, pointless battle, with no hopes of changing the outcome. 

Obi-Wan wants to go to Anakin and shake him until he listens; tell him that he needs to withdraw from Padmé’s soul and find it within himself to enjoy the time he still has with her, but it would be futile. After all, Anakin is as stubborn as his Master, and  _ Obi-Wan’s  _ Master in turn, with the added bonus of being generally explosive with his emotions. Attempting something on that vein would only result in an angry Anakin and more frustration for Obi-Wan to store away.

He touches Anakin’s arm, using the contact to amplify their bond enough for Obi-Wan to be able to send a message.

_ We’ve arrived, _ he says to Anakin.  _ You need to let go, we need to get her to the med droids. _

Reluctantly, Anakin does. It’s hurried and graceless, which has the consequence of leaving him dizzy and stunned. Obi-Wan’s hand on his arm turns into a steadying force, not letting him lose his balance.

In the Force, Obi-Wan feels the mechanisms of the ship start lowering the ramp, so after making sure Anakin is steady, he turns to Padmé. He picks her up gently, yet firmly enough for her to be safe. Anakin follows him uneasily as he exits the ship, and Obi-Wan picks up a sense of nausea from him.

Bail is the first thing Obi-Wan sees, rushing to meet them with concern clear on his face. After telling them to follow him to the medcenter, he turns around and almost sprints back inside, with them on his tail.

Tired and worried as he is, Obi-Wan only notices the bright lights and durasteel walls of the building, too much of his awareness focused on the weight on his arms and Anakin’s agitated presence behind him. He is sure that, were they not walking at the present time, his former Padawan would be fidgeting uncontrollably, trying to get rid of the anxiety he was feeling by moving around.

Obi-Wan barely notices depositing Padmé on a bed. When he comes back to himself fully, he is on the outside of the room, looking through the transparisteel as the medbots run their tests. Anakin is a storm in the Force at his side, crackling with thunder and flashing with lightning, but still managing to be mostly still. Obi-Wan spares a few moments to study his hunched posture: the ash dusting his shoulders, the regret displayed on his expression. Were this any other situation, Obi-Wan would have extended a mental hand to help him achieve the serenity he needed and the answers he wanted from the Force. But this was not one of the situations they’d become so used to in the war-- this was too close their hearts, and no amount of support would make it better.

Dimly, Obi-Wan notices Master Yoda’s presence; quiet, pensive and grieving. It’s likely that he had been the one to feel the sudden death of the Jedi throughout the galaxy more acutely than any other. Obi-Wan feels the respect he held for him resurface.

A few minutes later, a droid floats up to them, drawing everyone’s attention. Though it lacks any expression or Force presence, its confusion is still somehow palpable in the air.

“Medically, she is completely healthy. For reasons we can’t explain, we are losing her,” it says softly. Bail perks up at the news, shocked, and Obi-Wan feels Anakin flinch at the unneeded reminder.

“She’s dying?” Bail asks, unbelieving, trying to get a better look at her.

“We don’t know why,” it responds. “It seems she has lost the will to live,” it remarks, then pauses. “We need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies.” 

Anakin freezes.  _ Babies? _

“Babies?” Bail asks, voicing what was on their minds.

“She’s carrying twins.”

Obi-Wan could only observe as Anakin’s shock turns to elation, and then to desperation. His happiness at knowing that he would be the father of twins was quickly overshadowed by the despair he felt regarding Padmé, and it was all visible on his face.

They all look at Anakin, waiting for him to say something, but he remains silent where he stands. Obi-Wan knew that the others didn’t fully understand what it means for Anakin to seem almost frozen in time like that. After years of convivence, seeing him like that, with no twitches to disclose the effort spent in containing all of his energy, was something unnatural; a crystal clear sign of  _ wrongness. _

Knowing they’d get no response from Anakin, Obi-Wan straights himself. “But could she survive long enough to give birth?” he asks.

The droid turns to him. “We believe so, yes. We will be speeding up the process with some medications, to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Then, please, start the operation.” He says as the droid turns to reenter the room, but a noise from Obi-Wan makes it stop. “Could we stay at her side?”

It looks at them, considering the options. After a few moments of silence, it speaks. “How many?”

“Only two.”

It pauses again. “It may help her feel comfortable. If you wait here, I will call for you when we are ready to begin.” With that, the droid enters the room, and soon after, the transparisteel walls starts to darken as a method of retaining some of her privacy. 

Bail and Yoda regard each other pensively, then go back to taking not-so-discreet glances at Obi-Wan and Anakin. The former chooses to ignore them, while the latter is too out of it to even notice anything. After only a handful of seconds, the walls become clear again and the droid reappears.

Obi-Wan lets Anakin enter first. As soon as Anakin sees Padmé awake, he runs to her side, taking her hand in both of his and apologizes profusely. Padmé looks at him with sorrow in her eyes, too weak to argue or to tell him that it wasn’t truly his fault. Both her and Obi-Wan know, however, that even if she  _ could  _ argue, it would only fall on deaf ears. So she keeps quiet, preserving what little body strength she still has; letting her eyes convey what her words could not.

Obi-Wan stands off to the side, letting them have their moment, only to approach the cot when Padmé looks at him. Anakin is still in denial, talking about how he wouldn’t  _ (couldn’t)  _ let her die, how he would fight the darkness; but it was obvious that even he did not believe his words. With great effort, she raises one hand to brush Anakin’s cheek. He focuses on the contact, closing his eyes in an anguished expression.

She focuses on Obi-Wan then, standing on the other side of her bed, and reaches her other hand out a little. Obi-Wan sees it as the request that it is, carefully takes and squeezes it, trying to transfer a fortitude that even he does not possess. Still, he could see that Padmé appreciated the attempt with a tired but warm smile.

Then, the birthing process begins. Padmé’s face contorts in discomfort, then pain, as the contractions start and grow faster than usual, courtesy of the meds. Anakin prepares to dive into her soul again, unwilling or maybe even  _ unable  _ to give up on her. Obi-Wan’s mental support was already extended when Anakin went to ask for it, something that made Anakin open his eyes briefly to give Obi-Wan the smallest of smiles that the Master had even seen on his former Padawan’s face.

Obi-Wan lets himself settle in place, adjusting his body until his stance is comfortable enough for him to keep it for the possible hours to come. With the medbots talking to Padmé through the process, and Anakin focused solely on her presence, Obi-Wan decided to watch over the twins’ light.

They dance in the Force, seemingly uncaring that they would be exiting their home of nearly eight months earlier than expected. He senses a link between them, which they use to communicate in short bursts of feelings and impressions. They turn to Obi-Wan at the touch of his presence, and bombard him with what looked, to him, like small flashes of light, but were actually their fledgling emotions. Focusing on them like this, he could almost feel their warmth, and it was clear that they welcomed him.

It brings a smile to his face; to communicate with them like this. Amidst the disaster, their shared light shines bright and untainted, their curiosity about the world outside almost contagious. Obi-Wan feels that if their joy grow any more, he would be capable of touching it, strong as it is. Still, underneath his corresponding elation, lies a bitterness unknown to them, for they could not yet understand the world they are about to enter.

Obi-Wan keeps interacting with them for most of the birthing process, giving them an outlet for their excitement so that they wouldn’t bother Padmé. It was known that the delivery of Force-sensitive children could be difficult, seeing as in their anticipation to meet the world outside, they could end up using the Force by accident, possibly creating complications. With Anakin as their father, and having noticed how bright their light was, Obi-Wan thought it best if their attention was captured by something else other than the process they were involved in.

A wordless shout of alarm in the back of his mind makes him broaden his focus, in time to feel the tendril of darkness moving from Padmé’s core to her womb, and Obi-Wan quickly erects a barrier to protect the twins. The shadow tries to find a way in for a few seconds before dissipating, leaving no trace behind. Obi-Wan opens his eyes, perplexed, and meets Anakin’s own gaze. Anakin thanks him without words for saving his children, but then it soon turns to anger; the gold slowly slipping back into his eyes, trying to dominate him again. However, he manages to shake it off and it fades once more.

Obi-Wan turns his attention back to the twins and is received with inquisitiveness and confusion, but he only brushes it aside softly. They go back to their joyful dance, while he tries to suppress his own anger at what had just transpired. 

Wasn’t it enough already, to be taking the life of the mother? If his children were to die as well, Anakin Skywalker would most likely cease to be; consumed by grief, turned into a shell of his former self.

He feels one of the twins leave the womb before he hears their crying. “It’s a boy,” the droid says, coming closer with the baby. Obi-Wan takes him in his arms carefully.

“Luke,” Padmé huffs. Obi-Wan brings him closer to her, and she raises an arm to brush his face lovingly. Anakin opens his eyes to look at him and smile down at her, caressing her hair. His smile is genuine, but the frown comes back after only a handful of seconds. It is clear that he has made no progress in his endeavour, but he keeps at it.

Padmé’s cries resume, and Obi-Wan looks at the baby in his arms. Little Luke squirms, trying to get settled in this new world, his Force presence brushing softly against Obi-Wan’s, and then reaching out to his twin, father and mother. It’s clear that he is confused, perhaps wondering why the rest of them are not so happy as he and his twin are, and it breaks Obi-Wan’s heart. So he focuses on Luke, pouring all the affection he can into the little one, and smiles when he twists happily. 

Another cry, and then the droid is coming around again with the other baby on its arms. “It’s a girl” _ , _ it says, and Obi-Wan repeats it, looking down at Padmé again.

“Leia,” she breathes out, her strength failing her. Obi-Wan moves until he is able to caress little Leia’s head, knowing her mother is now too weak to be able to do it, and surrounds her in the same affection he showed Luke.

Padmé looks at Anakin and squeezes his hand faintly. He gives no response, obviously too immersed in her soul to feel it. She looks at Obi-Wan then, and tries to catch her breath.

“Obi-Wan,” she sighs, almost panting, exhausted and fading faster than her lungs could accompany. “There is good in him,” she continues, eyes quickly darting to Anakin. “I know.... I know there’s-- still....”

She breathes for one last time: then her face relaxes and her head pends to the side. Luke and Leia sense her departure and start crying in earnest, while Anakin stumbles, forcefully ejected out of her dying soul.

“No!” he shouts, desperate. “No, Padmé, don’t go! I love you! Please, stay with me, don’t leave me behind!”

Obi-Wan watches in sorrow as Anakin breaks down in front of him; as he holds his beloved’s face and kisses her forehead while begging for her to come back. Obi-Wan takes a step back and looks at Luke, and then Leia; both crying their little hearts out. He is hopeless to comfort them, unable to even think of a way to do so. He lets them wail, keeping their newborn presences close to his own. Lowering his head, Obi-Wan sends a brief prayer into the Force, wishing peace for Padmé in the afterlife.

 

x

 

Hours later, all of them sit in a conference room on Bail’s ship. Luke and Leia had fallen into an uneasy sleep nearly half an hour ago, after a thorough check-up from the med droids. They are sharing a portable crib that Anakin rocked without paying attention to it. On the other chairs, Yoda and Bail watch the restless babies and their dazed father in silence.

“Hide, you must, if the babies are to survive,” Yoda says quietly. It still seemed like a shout.

Anakin only tilts his head to the side, unresponsive. Obi-Wan sighs.

“I know, but where? The four of us are too strong in the Force to go unnoticed, even more so now.”

Yoda lowers his head at the underlying mention of the countless Jedi the previously loyal clones had killed. Bail looks pensive.

“If the need arose, I would be able to hide the girl. She would be safe with Breha and I,” he says, and Obi-Wan could see the politician was beginning to care for little Leia. Were Anakin still an enemy, she would have likely gone to him, to be raised as a princess. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know if the current situation was better or worse.

Anakin’s head snaps towards Bail, and Obi-Wan swore he heard his neck pop with the action. “No. We all stay together,” he says, stilted, briefly looking at Obi-Wan before directing his gaze to the slumbering newborns. 

“A dangerous course, that is. Risk their lives, would you, on attachment?” Yoda says  — almost accuses, in fact. No words needed to be said for them to understand what he was referring to. After all, weren’t they all in this situation because of attachments?

This time, when Anakin turns to look at where Bail and Yoda sat beside each other, his eyes blaze, and Obi-Wan could see the prosthetic hand clenching under the table. Faintly, Obi-Wan feels a headache coming.

“It was because of the Order’s stupid rules that this happened. If they weren’t so stifling, so  _ unrealistic,  _ maybe we could be living something different! Maybe if the Order wasn’t so kriffing  _ inflexible,  _ they would have noticed the Sith Lord under our noses!”

Yoda watches Anakin with scrutiny, cataloguing his reactions. "Admit, I will, that more vigilant, we could have been. But on the Order, blame cannot solely fall. See the fault in your own actions, you must."

“I know I went too far. But I couldn’t just let her  _ die  _ without trying to save her! I was having the same dream every night, and you just told me to let go. How could I do that!?”

“Try, you did. This situation, you helped create, and yet your goals, you did not reach,” Yoda says, slightly shaking his head after. “Not enough, trying was.”

“Then was I supposed to simply watch her fade away, knowing that I could have done something? I love her! I want- wanted to keep her safe and happy and--” he pauses then, to release an ugly laugh paired with a self-loathing sneer. “Well, dying really puts a wrench in that, doesn’t it?”

“Then restrain yourself, you should have. If love, you claim the culprit to be, easier, wouldn’t it have been, to ignore it? If put you in that position, love did, then without it, safe, she would be.”

Obi-Wan can almost see the fire rise in Anakin with those words. Though he partly shares the Grandmaster’s opinion, he knows Anakin well enough to predict the reaction that speaking it aloud would create. He suspects that Yoda knows it as well, and was using it to test Anakin’s control. From the looks of it, the results are nothing more than expected.

Obi-Wan feels the tremors in the Force before they manifest into the physical world. The table and the chairs start to shake slightly, then with growing intensity. Bail looks alarmed and woefully unprepared for the situation as the twins open their little eyes and start crying and screaming at the top of their lungs. 

“Like you’d ever understand! With all your bullshit about attachments and feelings being  _ bad things,  _ like love and compassion aren’t what should drive the Jedi to be  _ good  _ in the first place! You and your Order wanted us to be like droids, to wipe our minds of all you thought  _ bad  _ and program us to follow whatever you say! News flash,  _ we don’t work like that. _ We can’t-- just  _ eliminate  _ feelings. You’ve become so kriffing complacent that you’d rather stick to a path that clearly has critical flaws than risk a change for the better!”

“Be done so easily, change cannot. Too great a risk, strong emotions create, of falling to the Dark Side. Shown us this, you have.”

Obi-Wan notices Bail staring at the babies, torn between the desire to attend to them and his fear of Anakin. Obi-Wan himself is trying to project calm into Luke and Leia, while also creating a shield around them, to protect the little ones from the waves of darkness Anakin is giving off.

Said man scoffs, nearly dripping derision. “The first step of anything is _trying._ Change takes time, yeah, but if you wait around waiting for an opening, you’ll be stuck forever! You say strong emotions lead to the Dark Side, when the actual problem is that you never teach your students to _deal_ with them, only to _suppress_ them until you’re able to ignore them, but that doesn’t really take them away, does it? I love Padmé, and I _married_ her because she loved me in return, and in the end, we both thought it something too precious to just waste away!”

“Selfish, the love you talk about, was. Ridden with attachment, it was, when selfless, love should be. With  possessiveness, your relationship has been overflowing, when, instead, full of compassion, it should be. Wrong, your sentiment was.”

The entire ship shakes with Anakin’s fury, bolts coming loose and the sound of crashing in the distance. “Are y- are you seriously telling me this? Have you paid no attention to wha-”

“Anakin, stand down!”

Anakin turns to Obi-Wan, fury giving way to affront. His shout had successfully gathered the attention of all present, and had the desired effect of making Anakin shut up. In the sudden silence, the wailing of the twins is clearer than ever. It gives Anakin further pause, until he realizes what was upsetting them before fully taking control of his Force presence, which had been projecting a wide range of negative emotions. He crouches down to their level, muttering apology after apology while trying, and mostly failing, to give them a sense of peace. A few Force suggestions later, they went back into their restless sleep, leaving a palpably heavy atmosphere in the wake of their slumber.

Some time later, Anakin draws a shaky breath, body trembling under the strain of restraining his own emotions. Bail looks up carefully, expression guarded and posture almost defensive. It’s clear he doesn’t think it a good idea to leave the newborns with someone so emotionally unbalanced, but what can they do? Knock him out and take the babies far away, to be found by either Anakin himself, or worse, the newly formed Empire?

No, they would have to stick to whatever Anakin decided. Wherever he chose to go, Obi-Wan already knew he would follow, to keep not only the twins safe, but Anakin as well -- from his own demons if need be. What else could he do, with the galaxy in upheaval and the Order in shambles, but protect whatever he had left?

“We stay together,” Anakin suddenly declares, voice a little rough from his previous shouting. He looks at Obi-Wan then, more composed than he had been in hours. “Me, the twins, and Obi-Wan. Yes?”

Obi-Wan nods but offers no smile, only his support through their bond.

“Where would you go, then?” Bail asks. “Surely it would be difficult to hide presences as strong as yours in just any place, so it needs to be far, which means the Outer Rim.”

Anakin focuses on the portable crib as well as on the babies fussing inside it in their agitated sleep, most likely bothered by the heavy atmosphere. Through their old training bond, Obi-Wan receives images of a sandy planet, of binary suns; of the warmth of what he guessed was a mother’s embrace. He sends his agreement, and when Anakin failed to convey their destination with words, Obi-Wan did it for him.

“Tatooine. Far enough to receive minimal attention, and with a thriving community of outlaws and escapees to hide amongst.”

“But isn’t it Skywalker’s home planet? Wouldn’t it be obvious to go there?” Bail asks derisively.

Anakin shakes his head. “He won’t think of it,” he says, and Obi-Wan hears through their bond, ‘ _ He doesn’t think I am strong enough to go back.’ _

Bail is noticeably skeptic, but let the matter drop. His reluctance to go against Anakin’s opinion again was clear, and though Obi-Wan thought it wise, he almost pitied the Senator for being so caught up in the middle of all that was happening.

“To Naboo, we should go first. Delivered to her family, Padmé should be, so that a proper funeral, she can have,” Yoda remarks.

Anakin flinches, as expected, but nods stiffly. After more uncomfortable silence, Obi-Wan opens their bond wider on his end and says to Anakin,  _ ‘Somewhere else?’ _

His former Padawan sends wordless assent and stands up, pulling the crib behind him with the Force, carefully enough so that the little ones would feel no disturbance. With Obi-Wan in tow, he exits the conference room, and then proceeds to walk aimlessly around the ship while lost in thought. 

When they pass by something that looks like a resting area, Obi-Wan sends the message to stop, snapping Anakin out of his haze. They sit on a nearby couch with the crib between them, and Obi-Wan focuses on the twins, surrounding them with calm to see if they could have a better sleep. It works eventually and they settle down in increments, until only their tiny chests moved, along with the occasional twitch.

Anakin fidgets during the whole process,  giving off guilt and restlessness, gaze fixed on his children. “I’m sorry I can’t help you calm them down. I’m sorry I started screaming back there and I’m sorry I didn’t realize they were crying until you shouted at me and I’m sorry I--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan interrupts, and though he didn’t raise his voice this time, it had the same result as before, of Anakin quieting and looking down at the twins. “I am not the one you should be apologizing to, and I think you know that.”

Anakin curls up into himself slightly, hurt dominating his body language. It’s uncomfortable to watch him like that. So are their shared attempts at transcending a chasm that had festered for too long between them, nurtured by years of not-quite-trust, of avoiding painful questions and repressing words that needed to be said. So much of their time had been taken by the war, by battles and sieges and missions, that it seemed they forgot how to be best friends without it looming in the air over them. They only ever talked about strategies and supplies and what or who they had to fight for the time being.

Would things have happened differently, if Anakin had trusted Obi-Wan enough to share his secrets? Could he have helped his former Padawan, guided him when only a Dark Lord gave thought to his worries, and ultimately, changed the outcome?

Obi-Wan feels that these thoughts will continue to pursue him for years to come, even if he knows somewhere inside that he alone could not change destiny. Knowing and believing are, however, separate, and so he resigns himself to his fate.

“You should go to Padmé again. I will warn you when we approach Naboo.” Obi-Wan says in a whisper.

Anakin nodded slowly; sadly, before standing and walking away, leaving the twins with Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan leans more of his weight against the couch, letting his tiredness catch up with him for the time being. Bringing the crib closer to himself to be able to sense any changes in the little ones sleeping within, Obi-Wan closes his eyes and drifts off.

_ ‘Force, what am I supposed to do now?’ _

 

x

 

Anakin didn’t notice arriving at Padmé’s room; not really. The entire walk there was a blur of white with spots and lines of black, while he followed the disappearing trail that her once vibrant presence left behind.

It takes him a while to be able to lift his head and look at her, still wearing the white gown the medics had changed her into. Her hair, so silky to the touch, had been unwound from the braid she had made, and laid in soft waves around her face and shoulders.

With every step Anakin takes, with every inch of distance that disappears, waves upon waves of sorrow break violently against his inner shields. There are no pretty words for it, no euphemisms for the bone-deep  _ grief _ he feels at seeing her there and knowing she would never open her eyes or smile or twirl one of her curls when her hair was down or roll her eyes at him-- ever again. The imprints of her Force presence would fade until she was only a memory to the ones who knew her, an idol to be followed; a figure to be cherished. The only thing that was  _ truly  _ hers and that would live on would be their children.

Anakin takes her hand, already so cold, and brings it to his cheek. Part of him waits for her to open her eyes, smile and call him  _ Ani _ in that so often exasperated voice, sometimes tired for her work at the Senate, but still filled with love and light for  _ him. _ Part of him wants to wake up in their bed, and hear her sleep at his side,  _ alive. _ Obi-Wan was right. His Master wasn’t the one that he needs to apologize to.

So he begins. He apologizes for his Fall, for pledging allegiance to a Sith Lord, for letting desperation get the best of him, and every choice he could remember making in these last few months on Coruscant. For that one moment, he let go of any resentment he harbored against the Order or its former members; let go of any beliefs he had nurtured to make his conscience think that what he was doing was right. Because she deserves it. After all he had done to wrong her, Padmé deserves nothing less than his pure honesty.

When he bends to press a last kiss on her forehead, his tears fall to her cheeks, and then he truly breaks down. Anakin’s body, too numb from sorrow, gives out and he falls to his knees beside the bed she rested in. Soon, he becomes a mess of hiccups, sobs and tears, the knot on his throat too big for him to be able to speak, let alone to continue his apologies. 

He deposits her hand back on the bed, as gently as he knew how, and props himself the bedframe, smelling her perfume and remembering simpler days. He cries until his body has no more tears to give, and the sobs persist for longer still. 

When his body is finally completely numb, he still remains sitting there, with puffy eyes and an aching throat for however long it takes to reach Naboo. When Obi-Wan comes to get him, looking disheveled and brushing sleep out of his eyes, he still hadn’t moved. He hears what Obi-Wan says  without paying attention to the words; only to the voice, and accepts the hand his former Master extended to help him get up. 

Anakin wobbles a bit on the spot, blood rushing to his lower body and burning the entire way down. His first steps are tremulous, but he manages to keep his balance without stumbling.

“--Bail’s going to contact her parents to arrange the ceremony. Do you want to go with him to the surface?”

Anakin shakes his head, too filled with guilt to face Padmé’s family. They were good, honest people, and he did not deserve to face them after what he had done. Force, Padmé’s little nieces would be devastated, and her sister and parents, even more. Without realizing, Anakin hunches, trying to make himself smaller.

The first time he tries to speak, his voice doesn’t even come out. After clearing his throat, he tries again. “Where are the tw-- Luke and Leia?”

“I left them in the care of the medics that accompanied us. They woke up not long ago, demanding food, so the medics taught me a few things and gathered some supplies for us. Bail said he’ll buy some of the things we should need for them while he’s down at the surface.”

“Will he take us to Tatooine?”

“He offered to, and I accepted. It’s better than trying to find a civilian transport that stops there.”

Obi-Wan enters a room suddenly, and Anakin notices it is a small but well equipped medbay. The twins are sharing a cot, wearing new clothes with a Kallidahin standing close to them, keeping them entertained.

Their little presences flares up when they sense him and Obi-Wan, and his own rises in response. It is the first time Anakin responds to their curious, instinctual probes. It’sa happy surprise to them, and soon Anakin had feeling after feeling shoved at his shields, all of them innocent and excited. He tries to respond the best he can to all of their impressions, to all of the new things they’re experiencing. 

In the end, it becomes a calming interaction for him. Their minds are still unfurling; absorbing everything around them, and their communication was natural in a way that made over complicated thoughts fade away to the back of his mind.

However, it wasn’t long before little Luke and Leia tired themselves out. With a mental brush from both Anakin and Obi-Wan, they easily go back to the land of dreams. This time, they didn’t need help to sleep well, and Anakin was glad for that.

A muffled knock on the durasteel directed their attentions to the immediate outside of the medbay, where Senator Organa stands with a crewman. It’s only after exiting the room that they notice the hovercart close by, ladden with many boxes and bags of--  _ baby supplies.  _

“My apologies, I seem to have overdone it,” he says and chuckles a bit, not looking at Anakin. “Though, from what I hear about babies, it might come in handy.”

“This is way past overdone, Bail-- it’s literally a pile! There was no need for so much,” Obi-Wan says, a little perplexed, before approaching the cart to take a look at the contents. 

“Nonsense, Master Kenobi, it was my pleasure to do so. Padmé was a very good friend of mine, and I would not sleep well at night if I thought I hadn’t done my best to help her children be comfortable.”

Obi-Wan and Organa share a look, understanding passing between them. With only a nod, Anakin’s former Master successfully conveys his gratitude.

“It was a little difficult finding a store secluded and discreet enough not to raise any suspicions,” Organa starts, “but we managed. I believed it a better course of action than simply going to the first one we encountered; though most people would never even dream that Padmé’s children could have survived, it’s best that we cover our every track. The Empire has too many tools at their disposal for us to be careless.”

“Indeed. Thank you, Bail, for all you are doing,” Obi-Wan says, sincere. “Were it not for your help, we would probably be in a far worse situation.”

Organa brushes it off again. “None of that, Master Kenobi,” he says. A few moments pass in silence as Obi-Wan inspects some of the boxes and Organa seems to ready himself for something. “Padmé’s parents have decided on a funeral procession, from their home to their family’s resting place, with an open casket. The entire planet held her in very high regards, and they decided on it so that the people could pay their respects one last time, before she truly finds peace in eternal sleep.”

When Anakin raises his gaze from the floor he had been studying with such interest, he discovers Obi-Wan staring intently at him. His eyes held no pity; only sadness for the loss of a good friend and an even better person, and Anakin could nearly  _ see  _ the strain on his shoulders, born from his unhealthy habit of taking more upon himself than he should. But how can Anakin berate to Obi-Wan for it, when he knows much of that weight is his own fault?

Anakin takes a while to realize Organa was still speaking, and even longer to be able to focus on the words. “-wished to know if you would like to go to Theed for the ceremony.”

The Senator looks at him for the first time since they left the medbay; very tentative and ready to draw back at a moment’s notice, so he caught Anakin’s flinch at the idea. Nevertheless, Anakin nods. He will be there, for Padmé. 

The preparations end sooner than he’d like, and so he and Obi-Wan leave the  _ Tantive III _ with their cloaks on and their hoods pulled up. When the Clone Wars still raged, their faces had appeared in every holo; every planet - the poster boys of the war, as Obi-Wan had so often joked. Even in a period of mourning as this, to go out without cover would be foolish to the point of stupidity.

And even if they disregarded the war, Obi-Wan, at least, would still be recognized on the planet. His Master had received great honors after what became known as the Invasion of Naboo, so many years ago, when they had all met. Obi-Wan is a celebrity.

The years-long joke between them managed to cut through his grief enough to make him smile a little. His Master liked to say he was the most famous of the two, but Anakin always disagreed. He had mostly stopped trying to discuss it with Obi-Wan, finally admitting it was never going to enter his Master’s thick head -- a comment that had earned him mock affront and another discussion about which one of them was the most stubborn -- but he knew Obi-Wan still noticed it on their bond, when the matter showed up.

All these thoughts of the friendship and camaraderie he shared with Obi-Wan manages to disperse some of his lingering numbness, replacing it with some kind of peace Anakin knew wouldn’t last. Deep inside, he feels that the only thing waiting for him after this numbness would be years of lasting pain and grief, and he’s far from eager to experience it.

Anakin follows Obi-Wan quietly, barely noticing the setting of the sun. They are going to enter the crowd and hide themselves in it, while Organa stands closer to the processional path. Even in such short notice, thousands huddled on the streets, wearing dark colors; some of them bearing candles. Obi-Wan and Anakin settle around the middle point of the procession, and begin their wait for her appearance.

Her open casket was pulled by four Gualaars, with many of her friends and family walking behind it, standing tall but still showing their grief. As soon as it comes close enough for Anakin to be able to peer into it, he gasps. Though the lighting is dim, he still recognizes the shade of her dress, the flowers over her hair -- the blue, sparkling water of the Lakes of Naboo, and the open green fields, full of flowers in bloom that surrounded them. The place where they fell in love, and later married.

She still appears pregnant, most likely a ploy to make the Emperor think that their children had died with her. In her hands, she holds the Japor snippet Anakin had given her when they first met all those long years ago, on Tatooine.

Anakin realizes he had been wrong to think he had no more tears left. After seeing the charm that was supposed to bring her good fortune, he’s inundated with memories of their time together, both the carefree ones in Naboo and the stolen moments on Coruscant. Obi-Wan rests a hand on his shoulder, in wordless support, and he accepts the comfort so as to cry silently.

Immediately behind her casket stands Ruwel and Jobal, Padmé’s parents, alongside her sister Sola and nieces Ryoo and Polja. Anakin can’t help but think that, were the circumstances different, he would be the closest one to her, as her beloved husband. Instead, he had to hide amongst the crowd; cloaked while he watched the love of his life travel to her final rest.

After her family, came the various politicians Padmé had befriended, including Queen Apailana, Boss Nass and Sio Bibble, who had been one of Padmé’s advisors in her time as Queen. Even the usually cheery Gungan was somber, with a downcast expression and a strange gait.

Even more far back, came dozens of people Anakin did not recognize, but whose lives Padmé had touched, in one way or another. His tears blurs them until they’re no more than outlines against the brazers and fading light of the sun, as anonymous as he is in this moment.

Anakin suddenly turns and starts the walk back to the ship, weaving through the crowd with a silent Obi-Wan trailing after him. The entire trip went by with not a word spoken.

They are greeted by Threepio and Artoo at the entrance, and Anakin moves on wordlessly after a short caress to Artoo’s dome and a nod to Threepio. He stops to think for a bit, cloak still acting as his shield, before stopping a crewman and asking for directions for the nearest resting room.

Anakin looks at the cot, and ponders lying down on it. His numbness had come back with such strength that even his tiredness had dissipated, along with his desire to do basically anything.

In the end, he decides to do it. He takes his cloak, boots and belt off with quick motions, leaving them on the floor before throwing himself at the cot and beginning his study of the ceiling.

It would be a long, sleepless night...

 

x

 

When Bail comes back from Padmé’s funeral, hours later, he and Obi-Wan sit for some time, discussing the galaxy and ways to keep in contact if necessary, before walking to the bridge and having the pilot set a course for Tatooine.

Bail expresses slight worry for housing and living conditions, as well as their safety, but Obi-Wan assures him that they’ll manage just fine. Though Tatooine is full of dangers, natural and otherwise, Obi-Wan believes that they will be able to give Luke and Leia a good enough childhood there. 

Realistically, Obi-Wan knows that there are still many challenges in store for them. The galaxy is still in chaos, strongly controlled by the Empire; the Order is still gone, and so is Padmé. Soon, the ones that cheered at the time of the creation of the Empire will realize that it is not the answer to their prayers, but their worst nightmare. Dreams of freedom and peace will be crushed, and a state of fear will fall over every system when they realize that they have no input anymore.

And in such a time, instead of fighting, they will hide. Not for themselves, no, but for little Luke and Leia. Obi-Wan isn’t stupid enough to believe that they will manage to avoid getting dragged into the fight against the Empire forever, so he can only hope that they will have a few years of relative peace for the twins to grow.

It is the only thing he can do, now--  _ hope. _

 

x

 

The  _ Tantive III _ stays on Tatooine soil for less than one hour. While Obi-Wan and Anakin arrange themselves and the hovercart, a crewman goes off to bribe the docking official into silence. After all, the ship is recognizably Alderaanian in craft, and though no one would guess it was owned by the Viceroy of Alderaan, it was still suspicious to have a ship from the Core Worlds so far out.

After a last round of assurances of safety and promises of contact if anything were to go wrong, they leave the ship, again with their cloaks and hoods pulled up. The effect is somehow lessened by the shininess of Threepio and Artoo behind them, and the cart as well, but no one stares too much -- those who live in Tatooine are used to strange people, and know to keep their mouths shut.

With Luke and Leia on their arms, hidden inside their cloaks, Obi-Wan and Anakin walk close to each other as evening approaches. Sometimes, Obi-Wan will catch Anakin looking down at his arms, where little Leia sleeps, lulled by the Force. He had stared at her for a long time before picking her up with care, no doubt staring at the wisps of chocolate-brown hair growing in her little head. 

They stop at a small shop to acquire a landspeeder, having decided previously to head to the Lars’ moisture farm first. Anakin is the one to deal with the vendor, saving Obi-Wan the challenge of trying to hide his Coruscanti accent, which, when joined to their cloaks and the fact that they are clearly newcomers, makes him a very attractive target to be swindled. 

Obi-Wan lets Anakin choose their speeder, trusting him to pick the one in better condition. He can’t stop the roll of his eyes when he sees that the one Anakin selected can run much faster than they’d need it to, and nearly misses the tiny smile Anakin gives at the feel of his exasperation through their bond. It makes Obi-Wan feel somewhat lighter, to know that he will still receive the same reactions in their banter, even if on a lesser scale. It makes him think that not all is lost.

They let Threepio drive, unwilling to disturb the newborns in their arms. At the city, his driving earns many insults from others who think it too slow or too by-the-book, but once they are in the desert proper, the ride smooths out.

The faint breeze from the drive is almost pleasant, though it still carries traces of the oppressive heat of the day. In the distance, one of the planet’s suns approaches the horizon, no more than an orange-red sphere, with its companion still appearing white above it. 

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin besides him, and notices that little Leia is awake; quiet, but with her eyes open. When Anakin caresses the side of her face, she snuggles into the touch, seeking its warmth. And in that moment, with their bond still open, Obi-Wan catches a glimpse of the soul-deep  _ sorrow _ Anakin holds in his core, mixed with an unimaginable pain, created and added to by each loss he’s had, each ounce of guilt, of fear. 

Anakin takes her tiny hand in his own, gentler than Obi-Wan has ever seen him be, and then goes back to watching the sunset.

When they are approaching the Lars’ homestead, Obi-Wan makes out two silhouettes against the light. The young woman notices them first, turning around and getting her husband’s attention. Obi-Wan exits the speeder first, so her focus goes to him, clearly puzzled, not recognizing him.

“Hello, Beru,” Anakin says, wincing a bit, and Obi-Wan gets the feeling that his last appearance had not been pleasant.

Her confusion turns to surprise.  _ “Anakin?  _ Owen, come here!”

Owen does, and then frowns when he sees Anakin, his posture a little defensive. They all stand awkwardly for a moment, no one daring to speak, before Obi-Wan gets tired of it.

“I’m terribly sorry to arrive without warning, but we had hoped for your assistance in some matters,” Obi-Wan says, smiling apologetically. Beru smiles warmly, clearly welcoming, but her husband only stares at Anakin with an increasingly stormy expression.

“Of course! Shmi talked very well about her son,” she says, generally warm.

Obi-Wan carefully moves his arms, so that his robe falls away to show Luke. Beru gasps, expression turning into one of wonder, and she takes a step forward to have a better look.

“Oh! Is it a boy?” she asks, to which Obi-Wan nods. “He’s so adorable!”

Obi-Wan looks pointedly at Anakin, who uncovers Leia as well, looking disgruntled at Owen’s scrutiny. Beru gasps again, even more delighted, before moving carefully closer to Anakin.

“She’s a girl,” Anakin says, before she can ask.

“May I touch her?” she asks, looking up at him. He nods stiffly, and Obi-Wan suppresses a chuckle. Beru touches Leia’s arm and then hand, making her squirm in her father’s arms.

“What kind of help do you need?” Owen asks, a little gruffly, his arms crossed.

“We would like somewhere to stay for a little while, until we can find some place of our own. We do not want to risk the babies’ safety while walking through the desert, trying to find a house,” Obi-Wan says, turning to Owen and trying to seem as unthreatening as possible.

Beru looks at her husband, clearly unwilling to turn them down, and it only takes a few seconds for Owen to mellow out.

“Sure, you can stay for a while,” he concedes, then looks at their speeder. “What’s in it?”

“Ah, some supplies for the twins. It’s an exaggeration, I agree, but they were all presents from a worrying friend.”

Owen nods, a little suspicious and certainly not very trusting of them. “Need some help to carry it?”

“We have a hovercart, it just needs to be organized.”

Beru was already walking to the speeder as Obi-Wan said that, turning around briefly to acknowledge him before locating the cart and beginning to move things around. Owen went to help her in a second, not believing in his new guests but also unwilling to argue with his wife.

Threepio and Artoo stay a little to the side, and though Obi-Wan can’t catch the specifics, he knows that they’re bickering as always, and he’s pretty sure there’s a complaint about sand somewhere.

Luke wakes up with all the voices and now projects curiosity, moving his arms and legs around in his blanket. Anakin walks a little to stand closer to Obi-Wan and the twins’ presences join at their seams, becoming one entity, something that he guesses it’s going to take awhile for them to grow out off. 

With them still so young, and after spending so much time together in the womb, their presences are nearly the same; only small factors distinguish one from the other. As such, it is nearly effortless for Luke and Leia to fuse them together. It’sa rare, strong connection, that will most likely leave its mark for life.

“Let’s go inside, mm? It always get cold faster than we expect on the desert at night,” Beru says, leading the way. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I know your name,” she laughs when they settle in the living room.

Obi-Wan smiles, a little sheepishly, before answering. “Obi-Wan Kenobi, at your service,” he says, bowing his head a little.

“And these are Leia and Luke,” Anakin adds, voice still lower in volume than usual, but seeming a little more alert.

“Are they yours?” Beru asks, looking at Anakin. When he nods, Obi-Wan sees a question jump to the tip of her tongue, but she looks at his posture again and refrains. Instead, she stands up and says, “Owen, would you help me set up a little bed for the twins in the extra room?” She asks and her husband nods. “Just a moment, alright?”

They go off then, into a dimly lit corridor in their underground house. Obi-Wan takes the opportunity to look around, receiving a simple happiness from the walls around them; a comforting change from the chaos of the past two days.

Obi-Wan rearranges Luke, lowering more layers of his shields to be able to interact with him and Leia. They are almost abuzz, marveling at the feel of the planet. Tatooine is, almost literally, a force of nature. Unforgiving in its extremes, it seems to take residence in your very core, giving a sometimes quiet, sometimes fierce strength to those it holds on its surface. Obi-Wan can see it, in Anakin, Beru and Owen -- how it shapes them. 

Though Beru appears naive or too trusting, Obi-Wan can see the truth: she must have held Shmi in very high regard, and so is willing to transfer that trust to Anakin, and to himself in extension. Owen, however, clearly has no good memories of Anakin, and finds their situation too suspicious to ignore.

Beru reappears and motions for them to follow her, leading them to a small room where they’ve set up a suitable bed for the babies. Obi-Wan and Anakin set them down, and they turn clumsily to face each other before starting to converse in the Force.

“It’s not exactly ideal, but I think it will work for them. How long has it been since they’ve been fed and changed?”

“A couple of hours, of which they have spent most asleep. It shouldn’t take too much time for them to start fussing again,” Obi-Wan responds.

“Well, then that’s enough time for us to set up our own sleeping arrangements.”

“I’ll take the cart to the deposit,” Owen says, and Beru agrees. She leaves again briefly to get blankets and pillows, leaving Obi-Wan and Anakin in an awkward silence, now that the twins are entertained by each other.

“You take the cot,” Anakin says, vaguely pointing to the aforementioned piece of furniture. Obi-Wan looks at him questioningly, and he shuffles a little, turning his face away. “...I probably won’t sleep, anyway.”

Before Obi-Wan can respond to that, Beru returns with a veritable heap of bed dressings on her arms, so he takes some before she stumbles over something which causes her to laugh a little, however low enough not to bother the twins. She leaves after giving them the directions to the deposit, kitchen and fresher, and telling them she’s available if they need any help. 

With his previous opening gone added to the aura of defensiveness which hangs around Anakin, Obi-Wan is unwilling to bring the matter up again, and, though unsatisfied, he lets it rest. They shuffle about almost stiffly, dancing around the room just like they’re dancing around the subjects they’ve wordlessly decided to avoid. Minus robe, belt, and boots, Obi-Wan lowers himself onto the cot, already sensing another long night coming. He knows that any sleep he manages to get will already be a bonus after everything, and that those first weeks with newborns will be difficult, and yet he irrationally wishes for the opportunity of a nice, quiet, night’s sleep.

Anakin settles on the floor at Obi-Wan’s side, sitting with his back straight, letting the wall support him. It looks and probably  _ is  _ uncomfortable to be holding that much tension, Obi-Wan thinks, but really, he is in no place to point it out. Aside from being guilty of it himself, the past days have taught Obi-Wan to pick his battles more efficiently than three decades in the Order did.

There were no windows to let the light of the three moons shine in the room, and exhausted as he is, Obi-Wan knows not to trust his internal clock. It’s been over three days since he slept reasonably well, but his mind refuses to shut up long enough for drowsiness to take hold; instead, he lies on his side, facing the wall, giving Anakin privacy, in a way.  It’s a token gesture, almost -- with the utter silence and their Force bond, not being able to physically see him does not exactly mean _privacy_ \-- but it’s late and Obi-Wan’s so tired he can nearly fool himself into believing it does.

He can’t say if minutes or hours have passed by the time he feels the twins stir in the Force. As one of them starts to fuss, the other follows after mere seconds, and Anakin gets up swiftly to tend to them. Obi-Wan can feel Anakin burying his Darkness a little deeper so as to reach to them, clumsily projecting affection and a borrowed peace from Obi-Wan.

If he closed his eyes and ignored the sounds, Obi-Wan could almost think they were back at the Temple or in an Open Circle Fleet ship, with Anakin’s presence lighter than it had been in- stars,  _ months,  _ with the galaxy in turmoil but not quite in the deep end they found themselves in currently. But that hurt too much to linger on, so Obi-Wan turned his attention outwards, leaving one more thought to fester inside his mind.

Even without looking at him, Obi-Wan could tell Anakin was probably reading the instructions of something, given the crinkle of a package and the mindless shushing sounds coming from where he stood. Baby formula, maybe, given the pungent, almost bad smell? Back in the ship, he had gotten a sniff of it as the droid prepared their bottles, and had wondered if babies could stand it, only to watch Luke and Leia almost inhale it minutes later.

Anakin left briefly for the kitchen, and returned just as the twins were getting ready to cry, most likely holding their bottles. The next few minutes were filled with small gurgles and delighted little sounds from them as they were fed and quieted down soon after. Anakin keeps Luke and Leia entertained, but Obi-Wan can notice he’s trying to be quiet.

After a brief lull, one of them starts sniffling, followed by the other, and soon they’re crying loudly.

“H-hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been fed and changed, don’t cry, c’mon, let Obi-Wan try to sleep,” Obi-Wan can hear Anakin whisper to them. Finally, he turned on the cot, just in time to see Anakin pick Luke up, trying to calm him down, but as Leia continued to cry, so did Luke.

Obi-Wan gets up and goes to help Anakin, picking up Leia and trying to project comfort onto both babies. Though they did stop testing the full extent of their little lungs, the twins are still giving off unhappiness, for exactly no reason at all. Sighing, Obi-Wan shares a confused look with Anakin, and then moves to the small patio he had noticed earlier.

The place lets the moonlight drift in while still keeping them protected from the biting cold of the desert, and slowly, Luke and Leia calm under the stars. 

Obi-Wan can’t say for sure what helped them become quiet. Maybe it had been the barely noticeable life of the desert around them, or farther still, of the stars so many light years away, but Obi-Wan isn’t really surprised. He can even say he had been expecting something of the sort; memories of a distressed young Anakin turning to the starry sky as a way of finding peace in his first years in the Temple still vivid on his mind. 

With slow steps and quiet hums, Obi-Wan and Anakin walk around the patio, letting the Force and their heartbeats lull Luke and Leia until they’re asleep once more. Once they were sure the twins would  _ remain _ asleep, they go back to their temporary room, setting the little ones in their bed, close enough to each other so their hands touched.

After that, both men go back to their original positions, only this time Obi-Wan was facing Anakin, Luke and Leia instead of the wall, and Anakin wasn’t trying to hold himself so stiffly. Obi-Wan falls asleep between one blink and the next, and woke up only once in the middle of the night, when Anakin leaned against the cot enough to rest his head on it.

The next time he opens his eyes, he can feel it’s the start of the day: the heat of the binary suns somehow creeping into the air, even underground. Beru was giggling with the twins near the door, quieter than Anakin had been hours earlier, also, Luke and Leia are wearing different clothes than before. Anakin himself is sleeping in a way that resembles someone that had passed out more than someone who had fallen asleep, his head still  on the cot and nearly drooling on it.

Obi-Wan doesn’t feel exactly  _ refreshed,  _ but it’s a start. His exhaustion had largely dissipated, and he feels alert again; maybe even  _ alive  _ again. As soon as he moves to sit up on the cot, Anakin startles awake, looking around with confusion before remembering the past few days. His expression turns to one of pain, and Obi-Wan leaves him to it, knowing it won’t be the only time that that particular reaction would happen.

After breakfast, Owen goes to check on the moisture vaporators, taking advantage of the near-dawn period to perform his tasks, while Beru stays behind to tend to their guests. Obi-Wan liked the woman already; she’s warm, supportive and hardworking; respected their need for secrecy and welcomed them into her home with no qualms. 

Even so, Obi-Wan thinks it best not to overstay their welcome. Their little mismatched family is effectively a magnet to suspicion and danger in the galaxy’s current state, and he doesn’t want to bring trouble to the Lars homestead, if the worst comes to pass. 

With that in mind, he begins to discuss with Anakin about places where they could live and still be reasonably hidden. The settlements and small cities were quickly discarded. The inhabitants of Tatooine formed communities to enhance their chance of survival, which created a problem: if they mingle too much with others, their Jedi nature will inevitably be revealed in case of an accident, because Obi-Wan knows him and Anakin will be unable to watch from the sidelines. On the other hand, if they remained reclusive, gossip would travel far; and in a city, they could not defend themselves without, again, revealing they were Jedi.

Away from a city, then. But where? Tatooine had only sand, hills and canyons, and the climate made an underground dwelling much more preferable. The Tusken Raiders are a worry, but one easy to solve, with the aid of the Force and their lightsabers. In regards to supplies and sustenance, they can always set up their own vaporators and trade for the rest, using services as their coin -- Anakin can fix nearly everything, and both can guard transports and people, if the need arose.

With all of that settled, they decide to make exploratory trips into the desert with their landspeeder, in search of an abandoned house or, if none is found, a place to build one. Anakin quietly volunteers for the first trip, so that Obi-Wan can go on the next day, and then Anakin again, guaranteeing one of them always staying with the twins. Beru also offered to take care of them if they need rest, something Obi-Wan thanked her for graciously.

Nearly two weeks passed before they found an old, abandoned house in the middle of the perilous Jundland Wastes. It was in bad shape: the entrance having withstood the elements for what must have been decades with no maintenance, but it was salvageable. Underground, some of the sandstone walls had cracked, and cleaning it was a test for their patience, but with time, they managed.

When the place finally became livable, with the vaporators placed in strategic and fairly hidden locations around it, a month had passed. While they restored the house, Luke and Leia grew, giving them a broader set of sounds and reactions. The newest development was a little, happy smile, which warmed Obi-Wan’s heart.

Though Anakin never failed to comfort his children, or play with them when the little ones were in the mood for it, Obi-Wan can still sense the sadness permeating his presence. At night, when the Lars homestead was silent and nearly everyone asleep, Obi-Wan would sometimes catch him stroking Leia’s wispy, chocolate-brown hair, or holding Luke’s hand as they slumbered, with his expression full of grief. When interacting with them, he often became overwhelmed with a memory or another, though he always tried to regain his composure, at least until he could get away.

It hurt to think that such a thing could continue in the coming months or even years, and that Luke and Leia could grow up with a father that is never quite  _ there _ with them, mentally or emotionally. In a different situation, Obi-Wan would approach Anakin to talk about it, but the years of fragmented trust between them had robbed him of all his tools to deal with Anakin’s frequent bursts of emotion. While the war raged on, Anakin changed and matured in various ways, though not always in a fashion that was healthy for him -- and his manner of coping with overflowing emotions was a good example of unhealthiness.

Granted, Obi-Wan can admit to himself now that the Jedi way of dealing with personal feelings doesn’t suit just anyone. Some, like Anakin, need more support than the Code and the Force can provide to be able to thrive. Somewhere along the years, the Order had become a little too partial to tried and true methods, forgetting accept and cultivate that particular kind of difference.

However, no matter who had the biggest share of the blame, the fact still stood: Obi-Wan had no teachings, no wisdom and, consequently, no way to help Anakin emotionally. Their reactions to grief are all but opposite -- while Obi-Wan chooses to believe in the Force and stand strong in its wake, Anakin’s more like a weight, pulling him down deeper and deeper into the unknown. Maybe everything is amplified by their inaction; by a lack of something to fix their focus on. The children are time consuming, yes, but their time asleep still left them with hours to spare and not much to do. Sure, Anakin could work on droids and on improving anything he got his hands on, but after over a decade of doing so and with the Force at his side, his mind still wanders.

As the weeks, and then months, passed, Anakin went from quiet and morose to jittery and high-strung. He’d stay out more, citing patrols or some needless maintenance, and sometimes even trips to the city for supplies they still had plenty of, needing to burn off his nervous energy. When sandstorms approached the horizon and they had to stay at home, Anakin would fidget and pace, not unlike a caged animal, too agitated to sit still.

Obi-Wan could say he was surprised, really; in his opinion, it had even taken longer than expected. He knew Anakin could never truly settle and accept the way things were in the galaxy.

So one day, when he felt Anakin was dangerously close to his breaking point, he dropped Luke and Leia at the Lars’ farm, went back home, sat and watched as Anakin paced and tried to find words to explain the cause of his behaviour.

“I need to go after Sidious,” Anakin says, firm and resolute, with traces of the General he used to be in his posture.

“I will go with you,” Obi-Wan responds, serene, and Anakin falters.

“No! I have to do this on my own, Obi-Wan,” he pleads.

“He is Emperor now, Anakin. He has the favour of the people, and is even regarded as the strong, steadfast leader that brought them victory in war and,” he snorts derisively, “brought the Jedi’s betrayal of Republic to the limelight. He will have layers and layers of protection, and as powerful as you are, you are just one man.”

Anakin frowns, stubbornness and a little petulance bleeding into his expression. “I know that. But I can’t --” he exclaims, before pausing and softening -- “I can’t risk anyone else.”

At that, Obi-Wan becomes a little colder, almost impassive. “So instead, you would put your own life on the line, hm? And if anything happened to you, if the numbers overpowered you, if you became too reckless, and died pitifully in a foolish battle, Luke and Leia would grow up without a mother  _ and  _ a father, is that it?”

“They’d still have you!”

“ _ I _ am not their father, Anakin! I care for them, and would go to great lengths to protect them, but I can’t replace you in their lives, just like no one could replace Padmé.”

“I know,” Anakin says, walking up to him and taking hold of Obi-Wan’s arms, just above the elbows. “And I would never ask you to do such a thing,” he adds, and both are more shaken than they’d want to admit by the scenarios running through their minds. “But  _ please,  _ understand-- there’s no one else I could trust Padmé’s children to.”

Obi-Wan tries to swallow the knot inside his throat, and to blink back the tears before lowering his head and croaking out, “I can’t lose you too.”

One blink later, he is being hugged fiercely, and part of Obi-Wan’s self-control breaks. He manages to contain a sob as he hugs Anakin back, the memory of those he loved and lost resurfacing, painful as ever. The rift that had grown between them close to the end of the war had contributed to the outcome of Sidious’ plan, Obi-Wan knew. They had always been better together, and yet, there they stood, on the brink of another uncertain goodbye. 

A part of him wishes to press the point, to convince Anakin to let him go along, but he can tell he’ll lose this time. Both were stubborn, yes, but when Anakin really put his mind to something, it was near impossible to talk him out of it. So instead, Obi-Wan takes him in, his own presence studying Anakin’s, committing it to memory in case the worst came to pass. It was something he never had the time to do: not with Qui-Gon, nor Satine, or all of his friends in the Order. 

As they part, Obi-Wan’s eyes are dry, though he’s no less sad than before. Anakin’s gaze and presence convey all of the apologies he couldn’t word. He went to gather is lightsaber, cloak and basic supplies while Obi-Wan stands in the same spot, trying to restore his shields.

They drive in silence to the Lars farm. Obi-Wan decides to stay with Owen and Beru instead of trying to take care of two four-months-old by himself. Anakin plans to go to Anchorhead and then Mos Eisley, so as to try and find a transport to the Core Worlds, with the intent of carrying out the self-given task. 

As soon as they enter the homestead, Anakin makes a beeline to the cooing twins, taking his time with both of them; memorizing their faces and presences. Luke squirmed and giggled under the attention, while Leia drooled on her own fingers, reaching to Anakin with her free hand. He kisses their heads, expression remorseful, and then turns to give Obi-Wan one last look before leaving.

Luke and Leia frown unhappily, still highly sensitive to the Force and able to feel all too well the heavy atmosphere of the room. Obi-Wan is quick to approach and distract them, unwilling to see they cry. They respond to him, tentative and inquisitive, but a fragment of sadness they can’t quite understand lingers around them. Beru stares at Obi-Wan from across the room, where she had been since they arrived. He can feel her curiosity and hesitation, and so tries to make himself a little less closed off. 

It still takes her a few minutes to speak up. “What happened?” she asks quietly and sympathetically.

“Anakin decided he had unfinished business to attend to, elsewhere.”

“When will he come back?”

Obi-Wan chuckles without mirth, looking at Luke and Leia instead of Beru. “I don’t know. He might not be able to return.”

She starts to worry, but balances it with a great faith in Anakin's well-being. “You and the twins are welcome to stay as long as you need, you know that. I don’t mind helping both of you, even less in regards to the little ones,” she says, approaching them and cooing at Leia. “Owen is a little closed off and skeptical, but they have started to wear down even  _ his  _ defenses,” she laughs. 

“I cannot thank you enough for of all your help these last months, Beru,” Obi-Wan says, heartfelt.

She smiles brilliantly. “No need to thank me. The four of you are part of my family, and I’d do nothing less for family. I understand that there are some things you and Anakin prefer to keep a secret, even if Owen doesn’t. He’ll come around, one day, even if I have to force him to do it myself.”

Obi-Wan laughs weakly, and she rests a hand on his shoulder briefly before exiting the room, still smiling warmly.

 

x

 

The problem, Anakin thinks, isn’t getting out of Tatooine, at least if you’re a free person and have enough money -- or, alternatively, the Force, -- the problem is finding a transport that _ leaves _ the Outer Rim. Wishing for one that goes to the Core Worlds is far-fetched to the point of being laughable, so he spends days jumping from one ship to the other, trying to reach a planet respectable enough to have,  _ at least _ , a route to the Mid Rim.

Without Luke and Leia to distract him for most of the day, his mind goes haywire with all of the thoughts he had tried so hard to keep at bay; all of his regrets, worries, anxiety and what-ifs flash-flood his brain, and he has nothing to help him stay afloat. 

They rarely let him sleep, and his method of exhausting his body until it could literally not stay awake anymore is hard to put in motion inside cramped ships that most likely skirt at the edge of legality. The unsavory sort that often rode on ships like these always liked to gossip, and there hadn’t passed nearly enough time for the galaxy to forget his face after being one of the ‘poster boys of the War’, which meant he had to remain hidden at all hours. 

The only thing that kept him from spiraling into insanity was the goal he had set for himself: to kill Palpatine, and thus make sure Padmé’s children would not be hunted down if their existence ever became known. They were the only physical reminder Anakin had of his beautiful love, and he lived in fear of somehow corrupting them, or worse yet, of them being taken away by anyone. Out of those two, Anakin found it easier to deal with the second, which was the reason he found himself in the current situation.

However, he did regret becoming another person to leave Obi-Wan behind. The past few months had helped him dispel any stubbornly lingering notion that his former Master was an aloof, imperturbable person, and it changed his view of the man. Anakin knew Obi-Wan had suffered greatly with all of the losses he had gone through, but only recently Anakin had truly comprehended how deep that sadness went; beyond the usual serene look. 

Still, he has something else to focus on. Palpatine-- no, Sidious -- couldn’t just walk freely after being the one behind so many deaths. Though Anakin has no physical proof, he knows that Sidious is somehow responsible for Padmé’s death. The darkness inside of her had been too powerful to belong to someone other than the Dark Lord. 

Anakin knows Obi-Wan had been right about one thing, though: the now-Emperor did have the favour of the people. Aside from himself and his former Master, only Bail Organa knew the truth about Sidious’ identity, with any others already dead. It means that, were he to be killed, the galaxy would most likely experience a thorough search for the one responsible, followed by a widespread uprising.

But on the other hand, it would give the galaxy an opportunity to heal. It wasn’t difficult to realize that Sidious had commanded both sides of the War, essentially fooling everyone that had taken part in it into thinking they were making progress; in reality, the outcome had been set since day one. 

The same war had caused the deaths of many innocents, all in the name of victory; which he now learned that had been a worthless effort. All the battles, all the injuries and sleepless nights, all the trauma and stolen innocence, for nothing.

And now here he stands, his hidden life with Padmé destroyed; the light of his life gone. Anakin knew she wouldn’t approve of his current endeavor, but he had to go after Sidious and make him pay for the suffering he had brought the galaxy -- even if he died in the process. With the Emperor gone, Luke and Leia would be safe on Tatooine with Obi-Wan, whom Anakin knew would raise them well.

Maybe, with this action, he can redeem himself, atone for all of his wrongdoings, the years spent cluelessly under Sidious’ manipulation, as a puppet dancing to an unheard rhythm. Maybe then he can finally be at peace.

 

x

 

Luke and Leia feel their father’s absence. Without him there, alongside with the atmosphere he left behind, they are quicker to cry, and slower to calm down.  Beru, bless her soul, keeps trying to distract them, but it’s never fully effective.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan tries to steel himself for the possibility of Anakin not returning. He didn’t know if having a proper goodbye made things better or not, should anything happen. To be honest, it hurt that he had enough experience with grief to even attempt to guess such a thing.

In the nights that sleep evaded his grasp, he’d go to that patio he discovered on their first day on Tatooine so as to look at the stars with Luke and Leia at his side. Sometimes they were awake, drooling on themselves and on any toys they might have with them, putting everything on their mouths as usual. They managed to bring a smile to his face, even if a small one, and his presence calmed them down in turn.

Beru likes to talk with them, to tell them various stories. Some might have been Tatooine legends, while others are fantastical tales of heroes and beasts that had Luke and Leia babbling at every turn. Even Owen joined in occasionally, after he’d finished his work around the farm, marvelling at their antics.

Every night, Obi-Wan prayed to the Force and the desert around him for Anakin’s safe return, and as so many times before, he only had hope beside him.

 

x

 

Staying hidden in Coruscant is easy, if you stick to the lower levels. It’s filled with those almost too miserable to even  _ dream  _ about the upper levels, and home to all forms of clandestine schemes, which made knowing how to look the other way a must for anyone who dwelled there.

Anakin is far from the worst sort of being to seek shelter there. With the hood hiding his face, it’s almost as if he didn’t exist -- of course, he isn't stupid enough to believe that he isn’t being watched from the corners of many eyes, but that’s to be expected. 

Left to stew in his anger towards Palpatine for nearly twenty days, Anakin figured it was likely that he was starting to fail containing all of his darkness, leaving some to hang around him like an unseen dark cloud which kept people wary, and, most importantly,  _ away. _

He isn’t so far gone as to think that what he’s planning to do is  _ right;  _ only enough to be able to stop caring about it. One way or another, Sidious was a problem to be taken care of. If he tried, he could almost fool himself into believing that it didn’t matter that his primary motive was  _ revenge  _ instead of the greater good. Sidious had been the cause for Padmé’s death and much of Obi-Wan’s suffering, and so, he would pay.

Ever since he arriving in Coruscant, he passed a good portion of the day slinking around the upper levels, trying to discern a way of reaching Sidious with the least commotion he could manage. It would do him no good to draw half of the planet’s attention to his presence and intent, so stealth was essential.

By day nine, he had already chosen an entry route and a time, one that guaranteed smallest amount of guards and Sidious being in his office instead of in a Senate hearing. He was finding it difficult to keep his presence cloaked as it was, but with the darkness Anakin was giving off, he would likely be akin to a beacon in the Force, thus blowing his cover and rendering his previous effort worthless.

No.ll he had to do now was wait. And then he’d finally be able to get his revenge.

 

x

 

As expected, his plan was far from flawless. The Red Guards proved themselves to be more of an inconvenience due to the thrice-damned Force pikes they held, and soon, it was him against Sidious plus three of the guards. One of them managed to land a hit on his back while he traded blows with the Sith, and as result, he had received an injury from shoulder to waist that throbbed with his pulse. 

Kriff, he hated when Obi-Wan was right. Of  _ course  _ his recklessness had to get the best of him, when didn’t it? Still, he was determined not to waver -- he’d gotten this far, he couldn’t flee without seeing his goal being accomplished!

Anakin willingly released the darkness inside of him then, letting it augment his strength, until the guards were dead at their feet and Sidious struggled to keep up, trying to appeal to Anakin’s conscience. When that proved unsuccessful, he tried to offer power and training, but Anakin had need for neither. The only power he had wanted would be useless to him now, with his beautiful Padmé already laid to rest.

As crafty as the Dark Lord was, Sidious was still no match for Anakin’s raw strength and youth. It didn’t take long for his body to join the others’ on the floor. Anakin proceeds to cut his head off, just to be sure. By then, he could hear more guards running down the corridor so he flees, keeping his eyes open for any hyperspeed-capable ships he can use. 

He jumps on the first ship he sees, moving through the take-off sequence faster than ever before. The news will spread like wildfire, and the chance of a planet-wide lockdown happening in those first few hours is too significant to ignore. It’s likely that even the lower levels will be disturbed in the ensuing chaos, as the nobles and socialites on their penthouses call for justice. 

He wants to be as far away as possible during all of that. Every second in Coruscanti soil makes it more likely for him to be found, and, if that happened, there would be no escape  _ even  _ with the Force at his side. With the ship rising through the atmosphere, he starts programming a dizzying route around the Core Worlds and Mid Rim, something that’ll make him impossible to follow, no matter how many ships tried.

With the planet still unshaken underneath him, and a solid plan to reach safety, Anakin finally lets himself breathe and starts taking stock of his own body. His back stings like hell, but his left shoulder is the worst of all; had he jumped forward a second later, the strike could have damaged his spine, or simply killed him. The wound will most likely leave a scar; a consequence of not having much bacta available at Tatooine, but Anakin didn’t really mind that.

After the familiar and nearly comforting lurch that signaled the jump to hyperspace, Anakin stands and starts walking around. It’s a small ship, made to carry a dozen people at the very most; some things still lying around -- a tool resting near a chair and a food wrapper near a window -- making it clear that it had been vacated not too long ago. 

He finds a first aid kid just as the rest of his scratches and burns made themselves known, little reminders of the fight, that’ll fade without trouble. Anakin pokes at his back with the Force, trying to get a real picture of the wound. It’s a cut at its beginning, turning into a burn which went until the right side of his waist -- it stung to the beat of his heart.

Anakin is almost grateful for the pain. With it came the certainty that the past three weeks hadn’t been another dream, that he wouldn’t wake up on his bed back on Tatooine, without accomplishing anything aside from destroying all he once held dear. He hopes that, by putting an end to Sidious, he had redeemed some of his wrongdoings. One good act wouldn’t have that much of an impact after years of grey, and sometimes evil deeds, but still, he hoped.

 

x

 

After two days of jumping around the Mid Rim as randomly as he could while still not getting close to the same system twice, Anakin decides it was time to ditch his current ship. It wasn’t as flashy as, say, the Nubian crafts, but the authorities could have put a bounty on the model. That information would soon reach the Outer Rim -- if it hadn’t already -- and that part of the galaxy was usually crawling with bounty hunters, making it a very foolish idea to continue flying with it.

Anakin touches down on Lohir, a planet that’s half desert, half ocean. After landing the ship on a rocky cliff facing the water, he stands outside for a moment before pushing the stolen vessel into the sea with the Force. He leaves only when it sinks completely.

Traversing the thin line of trees that hid his landing point, it didn’t take long for Anakin to find a road to the nearest city. A little way ahead, a handful of traveling merchants walk unhurriedly, holding the reins of the animals that carried their goods. Anakin trails far behind them, unwilling to be marked as a possible looter. His objective is to be as unnoticeable as he can so as to make yet another successful escape to a safer location.

Some time after nightfall, they reach the city. A sign declares its name to be Talikarhi, producer of the best sea-salt on Lohir. Anakin suddenly remembers that this is one of the many planets that stood neutral as the war went on. One that, unlike Mandalore, had succeeded in staying so.

Most of the city is slowing down, readying itself to rest before another day dawned, with stores closing and internal lights turning off -- but Anakin wanted to be up in space again as soon as possible. He finds an elderly merchant still out in the street and buys some more rations to last until he reaches Tatooine.

Later, when only bars and nightclubs were still open, Anakin begins roaming around with a little more purpose. Talikarhi is a big enough city to have a spaceport, but stealing a ship from there would be too risky. Spaceports in quiet, peaceful planets such as Lohir were bound to have all sorts of records and layers of security to ensure the safety of the vessels stored within.

So, instead, he keeps his eyes open for abandoned transports, any which could have hyperdrives included. At the other side of the city, Anakin finds a junkyard, and grins despite himself. Now,  _ those _ ships, no one will miss -- and he’s sure he can find one that works. Briefly, he remembers how Obi-Wan always said that Anakin had a distorted notion of what might be considered good enough to fly, and the memory makes him smile just a little bit wider before he dismisses the thought and sets himself to work.

After scanning the area and some of the ships with the Force, he finds one he could work with. He doesn’t even know why it’s on the junkyard; sure, it had some scorch marks and Anakin’s pretty sure there is a part missing from its ceiling, but that’s  _ fixable _ , and aside from that it seems to be in good conditions.

He spends the next few hours fiddling with various circuits, taking cords from less important systems to replace the fried sections from the ones he will truly need. This time around, Anakin  _ really _ needs a ship of his  _ not  _ to crash, or else Obi-Wan will surely kill him.

Anakin knows he had gotten some fame amongst peers for his frequent crash-landings, something that Obi-Wan had teased him mercilessly, for  _ years. _ Part of his desire to touch down safely came from the desire to spite his old Master; to show Obi-Wan he can land an entire ship while on an important mission, at least  _ once _ .

Sometimes, after moving harshly, Anakin’s shoulder would flare up in pain. Luckily, he had found some bacta stashed away on the previous transport. It had been a ridiculously small amount, but it worked to dull the ache and prevent infection, and the Force kept it from hurting too much. 

He takes off just before dawn; were it a few minutes later, he wouldn’t have had the night’s darkness to hide him from view. Wanting to be as cautious as possible, he prepares for at least one more day of jumping around systems, this time on the Outer Rim, before going back to Tatooine. If anyone had managed to follow him, by sheer dumb luck, Anakin sure as kriff didn’t wish to lead them straight to Luke, Leia and Obi-Wan.

He settles on the pilot’s chair and closes his eyes, trying to push away stray thoughts so as to focus on the ship. Sensing a machine while it works has always been a soothing pastime for Anakin - it gave him peace: a fragment of order amidst the chaos that’s his reality. 

With a deep breath, he nearly merges with the ship, feeling the thrum of the hyperdrive on his bones instead of just his feet. The artificial gravity; the air recycler; the direction controls - he can feel all of it, as if he were standing in front of the circuitry, staring at it.

Anakin needed that peace.

 

x

 

Obi-Wan knew Anakin was coming back as soon as the latter dropped out of hyperspace on the Tatoo system. Their bond contracted after weeks of being stretched halfway across the galaxy, and it did so with what felt like a snap. He paused and looked up so suddenly that made Beru look at him, inquisitive from where her and Owen had just finished dressing Luke and Leia.

He goes outside when Anakin enters the atmosphere, ignoring the late morning’s oppressive heat, and watches the sky even though the ship isn’t currently visible. Owen and Beru stay inside, in the shadow, holding Luke and Leia as curiosity made itself plain on their faces. 

They understand his hurry when they finally notice the small vessel coming closer, and Beru smiles radiantly at Obi-Wan, happy to have been right at trusting Anakin. She bounces Leia gently, telling her and her brother that their father has returned, which only makes the little ones coo and gurgle.

When Anakin appears, still whole and looking tired, relief blooms on Obi-Wan’s chest so completely that he swears he can almost taste it, and his breathing stutters before returning to normal. Obi-Wan can’t help the smile that dominates his face, and is pleased to see that a smaller but honest one can be given to him.

They stay with the Lars until sunset, and then bundle up the twins against the night’s cold in order to go back home, with Artoo and Threepio helping Obi-Wan entertain Luke and Leia while Anakin drives. Their house isn’t as full of sand as it could have been, since Obi-Wan had taken a day every week to go back and clean it, so they have no problems settling back in.

Later, when the little ones are safely asleep and the droids have entered low power mode to pass the time, Anakin sits with Obi-Wan at their kitchen table and recounts the whole trip, staring at his hands while his former Master listens attentively. When his injury is mentioned, Obi-Wan asks to see it, and Anakin lets him spread medicine on it. While bacta is common near the center of the galaxy, on planets like Tatooine it’s a valuable resource that the slaves and most of the free people can only acquire in small doses, and thus, is kept near exclusively for the direst of wounds. The remaining kind is treated by homemade, usually herbal, salves.

While Obi-Wan dresses the injury appropriately, to keep sand and infection away from it, Anakin finishes his story. It’s clear to Obi-Wan that by going on his self-appointed mission, Anakin had found closure somehow, and can’t find it in himself to blame his former Padawan for his methods. The memory of all the ones they had lost by what he could now recognize as a consequence of Sidious’ actions are too strong to let him do so.

They end up talking well into the night about nothing of importance; avoiding the topics that really matter, letting their immaterial wounds bleed unattended, as they always do. Luke and Leia wake up once, and Obi-Wan and Anakin manage to calm their sniffles before they turn to full-blown crying, their voices lulling the babies back to the land of dreams.

It’s not hard to fall into a routine, and into their old roles as well. Obi-Wan chastises, Anakin jokes, and both care for Luke and Leia. Sometimes Beru visits, or they all visit the farm, letting the Lars be a part of the twins’ childhood.

Obi-Wan still catches Anakin staring at the little ones like they are something more precious than his own life, or something to be raised on a pedestal, better kept untainted. Beru had once said to him that it felt like Anakin didn’t consider himself their father, as though he never connected with them on that level, seeing them only as Padmé’s. On occasion, Obi-Wan thinks Anakin is afraid of tarnishing their Light with his barely controlled Dark, as if mere touch could infect them with it.

And as months and then years pass, Obi-Wan agrees with Beru. Tired of giving Anakin space, he confronts the man about it on a previously unassuming day, when Luke and Leia are already toddlers and trying their hand at standing and walking, and it acts as the breaking of a dam. 

Years of suppressed feelings break out of the corners they had been shoved into. It becomes an ugly fight that neither can win, that forces them into confronting what they had ignored for too long. It makes them revisit painful memories in an attempt to reach an understanding, to bridge the gap that separates them. Both men are made to admit their contributions to the growth of that chasm in the first place.

It  _ hurts, _ like pulling shrapnel from an injury so that it can heal, and Obi-Wan and Anakin feel a little emptier, a little lighter after it ends, too used to the feeling of a burden on their backs.

It is by no means the solution to everything, but it's a start. When everything's quiet again, they sit side by side, closer than they have been in more time than they'd like to consider, in many ways. They almost feel like a  _ team _ again, like the synchronized duo they had been so long ago. It's not perfect, of course -- Obi-Wan still struggles with feeling instead of repressing, Anakin still struggles with his grief and anger -- but they manage.

The four of them make plenty of happy memories in between, when hours are spent on Force tricks to the delight of Luke and Leia. When they finally start to speak, their favorite word on the good days is  _ ‘again’ _ , repeated over and over as they all laugh and Anakin hurries to repeat his feat.

It gets better with time. Good days turn into good weeks, which turn into good months. When Obi-Wan catches Anakin thinking about himself as a father without any prompt, he teases Anakin mercilessly for finally coming to his senses, and they bicker back and forth, all in a good fun, and Obi-Wan knows that beneath Anakin’s bashfulness at the situation lies gratitude.

After the entire story of what led to the creation of the Empire is told, from the viewpoint of both men, and after they finally address, and dress, the mental wounds they still carry, they can at last make space for new growth. Tatooine is a barren, harsh planet, but they manage to flourish in spite of the uneven odds.

 

x

 

When Luke and Leia are nearing their seventh Life Day, a ship descends near their little home, and they recognize the Alderaanian crest on its hull. They are told that the Empire didn’t take long to crumble after the Emperor’s death, and that many senators, with Bail Organa and Mon Mothma amongst them, had worked to reestablish the Republic despite various attacks and attempts on their lives, and that they had ultimately succeeded.

The ship’s captain says that the truth has been revealed to the entire galaxy; that all the ones somehow involved were being brought to justice. He said that the Jedi Temple was being restored at the orders of Organa himself, and that if they wished, Obi-Wan and Anakin could return and rebuild the Order as they thought best.

After a last look at the sands around them, and at little Luke and Leia, eavesdropping not far behind, they accept with their hearts set on making things right.

**Author's Note:**

> I once knew your father well / he fought tears as he spoke of your mother's health. / I guess a part of him just couldn't return. / Forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn.  
> As your guardian, I was instructed well / to make sense of God's love in these fires of hell. / No I don't expect you to understand / just to live what little life your broken heart can.  
> Maybe your light is a seed / and the darkness, the dirt. / In spite of the uneven odds / beauty lifts from the earth.  
> As years moved on / these questions take shape. / Are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight? / No one expects you to understand / just to live what little life your mended heart can.  
> You'll always remember the moment God took her away / for the weight of the world / was placed on your shoulders that day.  
> Maybe your light is a seed / and the darkness, the dirt. / In spite of the uneven odds / beauty lifts from the earth.  
> You're much too young now / so I write these words down: / "Darkness exists to make light truly count".


End file.
